tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16799998329362084922024-02-19T01:59:05.653+00:00Life in the Preseli HillsThe ups and downs of a rural life spent writing, gardening, running, cooking and day-dreamingUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger499125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1679999832936208492.post-64483276457692523152015-06-16T11:48:00.000+01:002015-06-16T12:29:59.652+01:00Our hay meadowsI'm never quite sure if I should be embarrassed or proud of our hay meadows. In fact it's probably true to say that I used to be embarrassed, but I'm getting increasingly proud.<br />
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You see, there's not a lot of grass here. Not in June anyway when other farmers are mowing fields of silage or hay. We don't have grass at this time of year and yes we have worried in previous years that there won't be enough to make hay with and the weather won't be right and, well, etc.</div>
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We've got flowers. Oodles of flowers. White clover, red clover, yellow rattle, eyebright, whorled caraway, ribwort plantain, sorrel, bluebells, buttercups, orchids...</div>
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and lots of bees of all sizes, moths, butterflies, beetles...</div>
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There are more orchids every year.</div>
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Who needs grass? Actually we do, and this field and it's similar neighbour produced 35 big bales of lovely hay last September, which is more than enough for our needs. It's an absolute privilege to be able to allow the fields to be proper hay meadows, and the tapestry of colour in June is, quite simply, wonderful.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1679999832936208492.post-49903617921618181982015-06-10T16:19:00.001+01:002015-06-10T16:19:28.758+01:00Why 5SOS are better than U2H13 and I went to see Aussie band Five Seconds of Summer on Sunday night in Cardiff. Now 5SOS have a special place in our hearts for many reasons but even so I wasn't expecting too much of the evening.<br />
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I thought it was going to be a nice little night out in Cardiff, with the annoyance of a two hour drive there and back on a school night. I thought there'd be lots of noise and screaming teenage girls and then a possibly mediocre concert and huge bad-tempered queue out of the car park and then a tired drive home.<br />
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Wrong, wrong, wrong. So wrong. Because 5SOS were bloody good. They can play, they can sing, they're good-looking in a wholesome Aussie boy-next-door sort-of way and it wasn't some pappy boyband nonsense it was rock, loud rock.<br />
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There was a little enthusiastic screaming, when Michael or Calum or Luke spoke or smiled, or Ashton grinned into his camera in between beating the hell out of his drum kit, but there was a lot of listening and singing along (and Cardiff 5SOS fans can really sing too). It was fun, light-hearted, good-natured rock music.<br />
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It's different going to a rock concert as a mum not a fan, I didn't really know how to behave for one. At least I didn't get into trouble with the security guards for getting up out of my seat and dancing as I did at a Frankie Goes to Hollywood gig in the 1980s (why weren't we allowed to dance? Good grief). I didn't have to sit next to a big fat sweaty rocker like I did at Meatloaf or put up with the drunken ravings of an idiot in the row in front of me (U2) or abuse from Irish fans (different U2 concert). There was no politics (U2) or posing (Duran Duran) and they weren't up themselves (U2, Coldplay, Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Duran Duran, Frankie) and they weren't boring (Billy Joel). They were every bit as fun as The Darkness (but I could have done with a sit down at that gig - I'm too old for standing all night!)<br />
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It was really happy and it was good and I was so glad that this was the first rock concert that H13 got to go to, And no, we couldn't really afford to go but we did anyway because 5SOS were there for H13 when she was in hospital. One of their albums or EPs came out at 5am during the sleepless night we had in the University Hospital of Wales before she faced an operation that included the risk she could be paralysed afterwards. They were (by way of iPod) allowed to stay with her in the High Dependency Unit when I was sent away because she needed nurses not Mum. And they were with her during the dark days of recovery when she couldn't walk and then had to relearn how to and when all she wanted to do was go home.<br />
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All of these feelings are tied up within the lyrics of 5SOS songs, so when they announced their tour while H13 was still recovering we couldn't afford tickets, but we raided piggy banks and bought them anyway.<br />
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And we both enjoyed it, H13 jumping up and down waving her green glow sticks with all 19 of her titanium screws and the rod and the rail that hold her spine straight(ish). But I couldn't look at her during the songs because it's been hard as a parent to watch my child having to be so brave this past year and I couldn't believe we were finally there at the concert. It hit me during the first song that she'd made it (and hell, it's been so tough for her this year) and I really had to fight the tears because a) that would have been so embarrassing for both of us and b) I was worried that if I started crying I didn't know how I was going to stop.<br />
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So 5SOS mean a lot to us and it was nice to go to Cardiff without hospitals being involved, although that's on the horizon again with a visit to the consultant looming around the anniversary of her surgery at the end of this month. But now that journey will be full of memories of a particularly good concert. Junction 33 of the M4 now means 5SOS not just Llandough hospital and that's a good thing for both of us.<br />
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What I really need now though, 5SOS, if you're listening, is for you to do an exercise tape. Pilates and yoga with 5SOS please for H13 and all your other fans (there must be others, it's about 1 in every 1,000) who have scoliosis. I think it'd be a hit!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1679999832936208492.post-64116532166553199192015-05-27T10:56:00.002+01:002015-05-27T10:56:35.885+01:00Art therapy<br />
I think it was in 2012, perhaps before, that I accidentally stumbled across <a href="http://daisyyellowart.com/" target="_blank">Tammy's Daisy Yellow blog about art journals</a>.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.daisyyellowart.com/">www.daisyyellowart.com</a></td></tr>
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I'd always enjoyed art at school, but didn't pursue it beyond GCSE. I used to sketch and have still got a few of my old sketchbooks, full of horses mainly, and my pencils and paints. But things happened. On a college trip I was ridiculed for my delight in finding and buying a tin of Caran d'Ache aquarelle coloured pencils and made to feel a fool and childish. So drawing was 'not cool' and something that I should hide and not tell people about. In the meantime writing took over. For my writing I got heaps of praise at university and then a job as a journalist and a short story I wrote got published.<br />
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So writing was my 'thing' apart from a brief dalliance with pottery, which I very much enjoyed, with a brilliant teacher who had an art degree and was happy to share tips about sketching and art in general.<br />
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My art materials lurked in a cupboard, along with tins and boxes of pens, and coloured pencils and pastel pencils that my husband had acquired while working for Schwan Stabilo. I had children and art became something they enjoyed while I watched and encouraged and supplied art materials.<br />
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Then there was sewing, which I had always enjoyed and was such a normal part of my life I took it completely for granted, but quilts are art too, and gardening, which is undeniably art, using plants as paint. But my own efforts (and I still drew, all over the place) remained secret.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Koi 2013, thread sketch</td></tr>
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And then, on Pinterest I think, I started seeing pictures of art journals, beautiful pages of swirling colour and exciting texture alongside inspirational quotes. I googled 'art journal' and found Daisy Yellow. I devoured the pages of her blog and discovered a thing called 'altered books' too. Adults, grown-up women like me, were doing art. I didn't need telling twice! I dusted off all my art materials and, to cut a long story short, I now draw all the time, everywhere. I paint, I collage, I make pictures with my sewing machine too, I sketch on holiday instead of just taking photographs, I fill lovely Moleskines with all kinds of arty messes, I alter books and now I paint on canvasses too.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTAzZiRp_QIt_k6Y6xRg6DgYyZfVRZNRgnDNTH8KDKseW6yzpvlKbeG2OOrthR6Uym06ntSITCflJwZMTXEUpZupUjpg2wIAL0wyk2uCdhe9_44vEfbxXebxZ0sbYaWGgDrf_2U0DnF_E/s1600/2014-09-28+09.34.00.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTAzZiRp_QIt_k6Y6xRg6DgYyZfVRZNRgnDNTH8KDKseW6yzpvlKbeG2OOrthR6Uym06ntSITCflJwZMTXEUpZupUjpg2wIAL0wyk2uCdhe9_44vEfbxXebxZ0sbYaWGgDrf_2U0DnF_E/s320/2014-09-28+09.34.00.jpg" width="237" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bullseye</td></tr>
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Last year, when H13 faced her Big Operation, I knew art would help me through, just as music helped H13. Tammy of Daisy Yellow also runs a yearly art challenge,<a href="http://daisyyellowart.com/icad/icad-faq.html" target="_blank"> ICAD</a> - a challenge to make art on an index card every day between June 1st and July 31st. This last year neatly covered the period from signing the consent form for the operation, to having it, staying in hospital, and recovering at home.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSAe2YUMSJj5R2c7XxtAd2YuAmtYfX6yp1s8MPwGAi-D2yZI5OV9e4jem4LejeUpSwta2c_GHpePGfhckkbgW25blFc9mJ8fL1wLXlYfZ1W6AnWSyUg8vS3ebq0YQPstwD9fPp_Xd6nOA/s1600/Hospital+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSAe2YUMSJj5R2c7XxtAd2YuAmtYfX6yp1s8MPwGAi-D2yZI5OV9e4jem4LejeUpSwta2c_GHpePGfhckkbgW25blFc9mJ8fL1wLXlYfZ1W6AnWSyUg8vS3ebq0YQPstwD9fPp_Xd6nOA/s320/Hospital+3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hospital 3</td></tr>
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During the very worst times, when my brain was in full panic mode, I just filled in patterns on a squared index card, creating fantasy quilt patterns in black and white. It's amazing how such a simple, repetitive thing, just making marks with a pen on a 5"x3" card, can quiet the mind and pass difficult time. I'm delighted to say that I finished the challenge and of course I'm doing it again this year.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">July 27th 2014 Carousel</td></tr>
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All of my ICAD2014 pictures:<br />
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/50009188@N04/sets/72157645162979766/show">https://www.flickr.com/photos/50009188@N04/sets/72157645162979766/show</a><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1679999832936208492.post-66098164091458309942015-04-29T10:18:00.000+01:002015-04-29T10:18:02.803+01:00The trials and tribulations of rural broadband<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Rural broadband is fraught with slow speeds and unexpected outages following wind and weather or unexpected birds or leaves on the line or whatever. It leaves us at the mercy of BT Openreach and, like Forrest Gump's box of chocolates, you never know which engineer you're going to get.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.pinterest.com/pin/556616835167868168/">https://www.pinterest.com/pin/556616835167868168/</a></td></tr>
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Over the years we've had the know-it-all one, the tirelessly-climbing-each-pole-between-us-and-the-exchange-in-the-snow one, the one-the-dog-jumped-on one, the I'm-the-boss-and-this-has-all-been-done-wrong-by-idiot-underlings one, the really grumpy one (who left bits of equipment behind) and last, and probably most important of all, the I'm-going-to-give-you-sensible-advice-so-it-doesn't-cost-you-an-arm-and-a-leg one.<br />
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He was an interesting chap, from the valleys, and he liked to pop outside for a fag while the machinery did its calculations. He checked the line, measured it between where it comes in, via the socket in Mum's part of the house, scratched his head, had another fag, fixed the fault and told Brian part of his life story and then related the rest to Mum while he discovered what and where the fault was and that it wasn't yet terminal but soon would be.<br />
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As he was leaving, he explained there was a conflict between our phone and broadband, exacerbated by the 8.9m of wire between the line entering the house, splitting (we have two lines) and then wandering around the room to our PC. Basically, it shouldn't work and it won't for much longer and we should think about getting it fixed or face big bills.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.pinterest.com/pin/270075308878471544/">Via Pinterest</a></td></tr>
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Which is when the penny dropped. We hardly use our landline; we mainly use mobiles like the rest of the population. Mum does use her line and wanted to keep it, so hers would be useful in emergency for us. The broadband now comes in that way (she gets much faster speeds on her line) and then to our PC and wifi router via ethernet cable. I've just speedchecked it and it's faster.<br />
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So today it was goodbye Plusnet and thank you. They seemed miffed that we were leaving, but let us go with good grace and a disconnection fee of just under a tenner. That's a small price to pay to say goodbye to all the calls from Indian call centres (one famously called me 'fatty' to my answerphone because I didn't pick up!) No more Swansea call centres offering to sell us solar panels (we've got those) and double glazing (ditto) or a new boiler (they haven't yet laid a gas main in the Preseli Hills, so, no.) And no more PPI calls! Yippee! Now I've just got to keep my mobile number a secret....
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We were right to be nervous. That was October 2013 and trips to Llandough Hospital soon became the norm. X-rays showed that H13's back was forming itself into an S-curve - a severe scoliosis. Surgery was inevitable and eventually last year we found ourselves in University Hospital Wales for H13 to have a quite massive operation.<br />
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For one so young H13 faced so many challenges. She had the operation aged just 12. She had to consent to it herself and confirm she understood that a complication of surgery could be - unlikely, but <i>could be</i> - paralysis, but when your spine is tightening at both curves of an S, you can't really say no.<br />
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The operation itself took five and a half hours, plus a further three hours to come round from the general anesthetic and the massive amount of morphine required to relax the spine enough to allow the surgeons (there were at least three of them, plus two anesthetists and various nurses) to straighten out the spinal kinks. The surgeons installed a rail and a rod, the full length of the spine, plus 19 titanium screws (which cost a mind-boggling £550 each. I'm glad we didn't have to pay).<br />
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There there was a stay in the high dependency unit - just overnight, H13 is made of really tough stuff - and four days in a separate room on the children's ward. I stayed with her 24/7, sleeping on a sort of rock hard armchair bed thing alongside her hospital bed and smuggling coffee onto the ward (or I'd have gone nuts!)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sketch of H in her hospital bed - I sketched to pass the time while she slept.</td></tr>
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The nurses were amazing, astonishingly so. Ditto the physios, who had H13 up and walking in three days, then measured her to find she'd grown in height by two and a half inches. There were fun bits (the pre-med which made her laugh constantly, then afterwards standing up for the first time and finding that a) she was nearly as tall as me and b) that she looked 'normal' now) and there were awful times - the eerie screams of sick children in the dead of night, the tiny baby fighting for life in the HDU, the removal of the two wound drains.<br />
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We went home on the Friday, a record time for recovery considering the operation had only been on the Monday; scoliosis patients normally stay in hospital seven to ten days. Brian drove between Pembrokeshire and Cardiff almost every day which cost a fortune in petrol. It was much easier back at home (I could get food to eat, that was a good thing!) H13 started eating again too (it took two weeks, but her appetite came back eventually). We spent the summer watching films, including a binge-watch of the entire Twilight saga. We managed occasional trips out and spent a weekend in Devon with friends, but it was tough as H13 tired easily.<br />
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H13 went back to school in September, part-time at first, but she sometimes didn't survive a full day. Once I had to rescue her after she was knocked into the wall by a couple of boys having a mock-fight in the corridor. But she got stronger and missing days of school didn't affect her as she proved by getting excellent results in her Christmas exams, including 100% in both parts of her science exam, and over 90% in pretty much all of the others too. We're really fortunate in that her teachers allowed her to decide what she could cope with, didn't panic when she missed lessons and trusted her to keep up with the work.<br />
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The day before the operation H12 (as she then was) ran the Race for Life in Haverfordwest. She plans to run it again in June this year, as a sort of full stop to a difficult 12 months and to demonstrate her return to fitness.<br />
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<i>* This post has been read and approved by H13.</i><br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1679999832936208492.post-59368591126883869922013-10-21T11:46:00.000+01:002013-10-21T11:46:24.792+01:00Already Autumn!Honestly there never seems to be time to blog these days - it all has to do with starting a business, of course, so my energies tend to be focussed in that direction. I've just written it a blog, so click here <a href="http://magathabagatha.co.uk/2013/10/delicious-autumn/">to catch up on all things Magatha Bagatha</a>.<br />
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Meanwhile life continues on its relentless rush. Christmas is looming on the horizon (did I hear someone say it was something like 10 Saturdays away? It doesn't seem enough!)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Itsy and H11</td></tr>
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In a nutshell, summer happened, we've been riding Itsy (H11 and I), Bullseye has been very poorly but thankfully pulled through and we lost a beloved guinea pig (Patchy) so had to obtain two more (Tufty and Shadow) to keep Fudge company.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjziebGZLzRDB6Hh170Bm1oqavkALHO1StqbBcDulZSZ9ORufQMr0EdazLY8ZK1vf-oDePtx1xKXJL0gvHEqvtgK-8Z2OuNbBxWXlgcJY6reljYiWID3g-rLpe0DUtNmDF0t_B6bTiTPjg/s1600/IMG_7183.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjziebGZLzRDB6Hh170Bm1oqavkALHO1StqbBcDulZSZ9ORufQMr0EdazLY8ZK1vf-oDePtx1xKXJL0gvHEqvtgK-8Z2OuNbBxWXlgcJY6reljYiWID3g-rLpe0DUtNmDF0t_B6bTiTPjg/s400/IMG_7183.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bullseye</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fudge (centre) with Tufty (left) and Shadow</td></tr>
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In sadder news we lost Brian's lovely Uncle Mel last week. We called him Uncle Honey (as mel is Welsh for honey). He was such a lovely, big-hearted man, devoted to his family and his garden (and he had the best lawn my bare toes have ever had the pleasure of wriggling in). We will miss him. The funeral is on Wednesday, so Brian is making the journey over to Whittlesey to help give him a good send off.<br />
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Then on Thursday it's back to the hospital again, but this time in Cardiff, for the next level of consultant to have a look at H11's spine. This was an unexpected summons (our previous local appointment had been more reassuring) so we're all rather nervous.<br />
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In all it's a busy week and I'm looking forward to the weekend which is the start of half term and (hopefully) the pace of life will ease off, just a little.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1679999832936208492.post-62887088934261770422013-07-16T08:13:00.002+01:002013-07-16T08:17:24.811+01:00Website, sewing, sheep and baby fishGosh poor blog, I've neglected it. But with good reason, I'm now mostly over at my new business website <a href="http://magathabagatha.co.uk/">Magatha Bagatha</a> - please pop along and take a look (and you can sign up for the newsletter too, if you'd like to stay in touch.)<br />
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I'm so pleased with my website and very grateful to Lindsay, of<a href="http://www.ljcltd.co.uk/"> LJ Computers</a>, who <a href="http://www.ljcltd-webhosting.co.uk/">designed, built and hosts it</a>. I didn't know there was so much involved with setting one up and it's been lovely to have a calm, guiding hand throughout the process. Those who follow Lins' blog <a href="http://multigen.blogspot.co.uk/">Multi generational living and life in Wales</a> will know she's been through a tough time recently. She refused to stop work on the website while she went through her treatment and used it to take her mind off things. She's amazing. Get well soon Lins.<br />
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My business is still very much a baby business but it's definitely taking up a lot of my time. There's a lot of sewing to be done, of course. At the moment I'm working on a baby heirloom quilt for a client....<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtS8_nlHOLb7_MfRl-AzXOlhwBRsm_chkB3mzqmk_-RJQ7FU8SnX5a3k31PoPREkplNS55V09S-UcOXE9eD_klc3VDv-fv30gZq1u7u7s4NFS3q1HFqXtcM6DIlwwLRufigfsFKCpUaOk/s1600/2013-07-03+13.46.23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtS8_nlHOLb7_MfRl-AzXOlhwBRsm_chkB3mzqmk_-RJQ7FU8SnX5a3k31PoPREkplNS55V09S-UcOXE9eD_klc3VDv-fv30gZq1u7u7s4NFS3q1HFqXtcM6DIlwwLRufigfsFKCpUaOk/s400/2013-07-03+13.46.23.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cornish fishing boats</td></tr>
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..and a large <a href="http://www.flickr.com/groups/2183212@N20/">Doctor Who quilt-along</a> quilt which I envisage to be the one we hide under while watching the TV on Saturday evenings. This is a big task with two paper-pieced blocks per month, with the final one due next February.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXvM4MZXC2toeUPELbxAaAjg6-l-3anZj5hj6L64diLOCSeznXVsH2cC7lewsPMhdOkDLvfOvmbS7GoyomzHWNVWHg0QSdhiB2PiQLOGgnSRcWIWcWB4spCHzXqrP6bed-gmy2F1rsO08/s1600/IMG_5941.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXvM4MZXC2toeUPELbxAaAjg6-l-3anZj5hj6L64diLOCSeznXVsH2cC7lewsPMhdOkDLvfOvmbS7GoyomzHWNVWHg0QSdhiB2PiQLOGgnSRcWIWcWB4spCHzXqrP6bed-gmy2F1rsO08/s400/IMG_5941.JPG" width="326" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Tardis</td></tr>
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Meanwhile the sheep having been taking up a lot of time too - first shearing, then giving the lambs Soil Association-approved anthelmintic medicine (I so much prefer that word!) and then treating them against fly strike. This involves bringing the flock down and into the yard and when they don't want to go there, they won't. You can coax, shoo, shout and bribe and it won't work (until they're ready). It definitely brings out the shouty redhead side of me, which is usually well hidden!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyvknREgjWmmvfXzP3nFOL8PwDS3Ee-eavBV0Pn_iveZCWSR3Lh46UaJaUgl6JqauELGBlcS7qU6rEMzSRvT-woXzIjxK6QFre9Jk0JrfCGeDrTjlNlhQBzaat7ew7grZ5UOPJVa2xLas/s1600/IMG_6292.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyvknREgjWmmvfXzP3nFOL8PwDS3Ee-eavBV0Pn_iveZCWSR3Lh46UaJaUgl6JqauELGBlcS7qU6rEMzSRvT-woXzIjxK6QFre9Jk0JrfCGeDrTjlNlhQBzaat7ew7grZ5UOPJVa2xLas/s400/IMG_6292.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Squished up waiting their turn</td></tr>
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In other news, I dug a pond in the garden. Brian acquired a rigid pond liner from Freecycle ages ago and I finally found time to install it. It "just" took a two feet deep pond-shaped hole, a few bags of sand and some found bits of slate to hide the edges. It took a day and cost just under £8. I stocked with with plants from our other wildlife ponds - marsh buttercups, yellow flag iris, water forget-me-not and water crowfoot - and inoculated it thanks to a big trug full of pond weed from Lins' pond.</div>
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The weed came with passengers...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tiny baby koi carp</td></tr>
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... baby koi carp, which caused much joy and excitement when we spotted them. The pond's a real time-waster - we spend ages staring into its depths. It's astonishing just how quickly wildlife has occupied it in the two weeks it's been there. Pond skaters were there almost immediately, followed by great diving beetles and other swimming beetles. Damsel flies have visited it to oviposit and there are all kinds of larvae wiggling about. I've stacked slates around the shelves at the edges because our families of sparrows think I've dug them an extra large bathtub.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1679999832936208492.post-62972083094092056342013-05-05T11:48:00.000+01:002013-05-05T11:48:58.676+01:00Spring gets a little springier<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKeUT8FsAlRX3Fo6o-tnZ_7p-YKv8A2cbae3BS0CbSlWsgzGQrIlM2pnZBRaBNy7nz9maAqXLJBst8KuljaXwT4VY7kEo_je9lAxMsmLi1ArQwquNTzo1FsJQ6mYK-aWozUDFKBVFsC4U/s1600/DSCN1800.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKeUT8FsAlRX3Fo6o-tnZ_7p-YKv8A2cbae3BS0CbSlWsgzGQrIlM2pnZBRaBNy7nz9maAqXLJBst8KuljaXwT4VY7kEo_je9lAxMsmLi1ArQwquNTzo1FsJQ6mYK-aWozUDFKBVFsC4U/s400/DSCN1800.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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It has been so cold this year. Winter seems to be finally losing its grip though. We had one day this week when the wind dropped, the sun shone and it was glorious - proper 'sit in the garden in a t-shirt' weather.<br />
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It seemed almost an insult when succeeding days dawned grey and gloomy. Especially Saturday which needed to be sunny as we had planned to join a guided walk on the Pembrokeshire Coast Path from Solva to Newgale. I had to abandon my plans to go though, as I am recovering from <a href="http://www.nhs.uk/conditions/slapped-cheek-syndrome/Pages/Introduction.aspx">Slapped Cheek Syndrome</a> - a virus which is relatively mild in children <a href="http://www.nhs.uk/Conditions/Slapped-cheek-syndrome/Pages/Symptoms.aspx">but fells adults like trees</a>. It starts with flu-like symptoms, continues with an alarming meningitis-type rash and then attacks your joints - particularly hands, wrists, knees and feet - like sudden and acute arthritis. The only thing to do is sit it out with ibuprofen and rest, but it lasts for weeks at the very least with some suffering joint pain and stiffness for months or years.<br />
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So a strenuous coastal walk was out of the question (stairs being enough of a challenge at the moment). Instead H11 joined her friends G11 and <a href="http://multigen.blogspot.co.uk/">her Mum Lins</a> and other friends from school and guides with associated jolly dogs. It made for a happy group of walkers and the sun beamed on them for the entire trip. Meanwhile, the rest of us, Brian, R9 and I, joined G11's dad Jon to wait at Newgale for the intrepid walkers.<br />
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A cruel onshore wind slapped at our cheeks but undeterred, sausages were barbecued, coffee and hot chocolate were made, and we had a lovely picnic in the sunshine. The hardier types then continued their walk on to Broad Haven while the children stayed behind for a spot of body boarding. The tide came right in and lapped at our toes while Atlantic waves foamed and crashed - perfect conditions, if a little cold and windy for the spectators.<br />
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But it was a lovely afternoon. My opinion of beach trips is that they are pretty much camping but without the need for tents and sleeping bags. So I do pack a kettle, stove, jars of coffee, hot chocolate, milk, water and proper mugs. There's nothing finer for the soul than sitting with friends on a beach, cuddling a mug of hot coffee, warmly snuggled under a cosy quilt with a dachshund for added warmth.<br />
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Body boarding children need hot chocolate at this time of year too. That's also a fact that should be law! As is not changing at the beach - wrap aforementioned children in towels and picnic blankets and head directly home. Throw straight in shower until rewarmed.<br />
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Hopefully that is the first of many beach trips this year - 2012 was the 'year we watched the Olympics (while it rained every blinking day)'. Perhaps 2013 can be 'the year we went body boarding all the time'. Time will tell!<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1679999832936208492.post-80765017440598209762013-04-15T19:01:00.001+01:002013-04-15T19:01:58.488+01:00Quilty pleasures<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/4G7yt9y6gbY?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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As the Kaffe Fassett Quilts exhibition was so lovely and as I took soooooo many photographs, I thought I'd make them into a quick video. I was very keen to show how the quilts had been hung (as if they had been flung into the air like a pack of cards) and the clever juxtaposition of colours.<br />
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The exhibition is a delight and thoroughly inspirational. I'd seen Kaffe Fassett fabrics, of course, and I'd seen his books but there's no substitute to seeing his designs made up as he intended them to look. It's a master class of colour and pattern combination. I've tended to err on the side of simplicity in the quilts I have made so far - I think I may be more daring in future.<br />
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One thing I would love to do though is to make a whole cloth quilt in some sunshiny yellow fabric like some of the traditional Welsh quilts that are hung on the walls. These are all hand-stitched and how cheerful they must have looked on cold grey Welsh days. These Welsh Quilts often have a story attached - one made as a thank you to a farmer who gave the quilter some butter when it was on ration, others made for weddings.<br />
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The exhibition is at the Welsh Quilt Centre in Lampeter until November. It's right next door to the Calico Kate shop which conveniently sells Kaffe Fassett fabrics (and every possible other thing the keen sewist could desire!)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1679999832936208492.post-85752447848676281602013-04-14T17:05:00.001+01:002013-04-14T17:52:20.128+01:00Inspiration<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYXu-jz-ThA0jeGXPBlOTAl2a639AiZSf7VhGmtiaUYTx5ArsNRF1hQzFNhc-jLs7RFYVXMsDLQL-8fSWmL5JweQBAs508AQ4qmuttoKNnT5BAbOqI3ZS3QKd1IO2jAVJEHAqwwDFtuds/s1600/DSCN1783i.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="345" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYXu-jz-ThA0jeGXPBlOTAl2a639AiZSf7VhGmtiaUYTx5ArsNRF1hQzFNhc-jLs7RFYVXMsDLQL-8fSWmL5JweQBAs508AQ4qmuttoKNnT5BAbOqI3ZS3QKd1IO2jAVJEHAqwwDFtuds/s400/DSCN1783i.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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We've just reached the end of the two week Easter school holidays. In some ways time has flown, in others it has meandered along in an aimless sort of way.</div>
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I'm still struggling with my inner demons, as I said before. I've had two successive dental abscesses which haven't helped. A first one, simple and common enough, which took a short break and then turned into a bit of an emergency. I didn't really realise what a pickle I was in, which was probably a good thing. I had exemplary NHS dental care though and am on the road to recovery, thanks to antibiotics and enough painkillers to euthanase a hippopotamus.</div>
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In the middle of it all we managed a trip (all of us as a family - how rare!) to Lampeter to see the exhibition of Kaffe Fassett quilts at the <a href="http://www.welshquilts.com/">Welsh Quilt Centre</a>. Well worth the trip, so inspirational and full of vivid, happy, soul-lifting colour. The exhibition is on until November 2nd.</div>
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I also managed to recover enough for a trip to Lawrenny with lovely Jo, her noisy boys and R9 (H11 being over at a friend's house). The sun shone in quite a spring like way for a change. We did the walk from the boat yard to Garron Pill and back round via the village.</div>
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Of course we ended up at the Quayside tearoom and found a sheltered spot for cakes and Elderflower spritzer in the sun.<br />
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Meanwhile, back on the farm, lambing has been happening and has mostly been going well. The ewes seem to be producing colossal lambs this year (we've got a new ram). These are great big things on stilts. This one (number nine to be born) can easily suckle whilst lying down. I don't think the ewes are as amused by this as we are! Lambs with such long legs seem to get them tucked up during the birthing process, so there have been a few needing a bit of a pull. We're more than half way through now though.</div>
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Back to school tomorrow, with all the extra little things that brings. The day is already packed with orthodontist visits, sheepy things and guides - somehow I've got to fit in the cleaning, and maybe something (anything) to progress my little business - really it needs to be a 48-hour day!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1679999832936208492.post-85905809107970250412013-03-28T10:08:00.000+00:002013-03-28T10:08:23.864+00:00Motivation<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Not really motivation, more a lack of it. For months we have trudged through mire and murk as the sky has cried rain on us. After a while you stop looking at it; the reality is so demoralising your eyes stop seeing it. It makes me turn inwards, I know it's a lack of sunlight, too little vitamin D. It causes a lack of energy, crumbling nails, dry hair and skin. The endless sucking mud saps at your energy.</div>
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Running is normally my antidote to this, the exhilaration of it even on the rainiest of days is a mood-lifter, but tendinitis put paid to running this winter. Three months was the received wisdom, which sounded like a life sentence at the beginning, but now I'm at the end of it and I can't seem to get motivated into my trainers again. Perhaps after Easter the day will come when I want to and I'll go and it will be fine again.</div>
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In the meantime I'm vacillating between weeks so ridiculously busy I don't get anything done and periods of such intense loneliness it seems as if the rest of the world is out there having fun and I'm left out of it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4SNFfvWII1mdQeZmcC4fweTRMw3CcTH6vVf1cmTlg-l5CdI6xU_Rm6oUH_dx0_JEpz289P1u9BR3uQJ6ZF6gMRM47IihHGlR46Pt-bek3SqbggJipyT9cXTfD-bOVZAArUHu2NSgIpmg/s1600/IMG_5586.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4SNFfvWII1mdQeZmcC4fweTRMw3CcTH6vVf1cmTlg-l5CdI6xU_Rm6oUH_dx0_JEpz289P1u9BR3uQJ6ZF6gMRM47IihHGlR46Pt-bek3SqbggJipyT9cXTfD-bOVZAArUHu2NSgIpmg/s640/IMG_5586.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
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But this morning the sun is out again. The world is crisp and cold and bright. I have to use the old horseshoe to smash the ice in the dogs' water bowl. This stream, which has spent the winter months angrily carving out a new, deeper trench for itself, is now pretty and trickling again with diamond sparkling ice. The ground underfoot is hard and dry and the birds have struck up their orchestra again.</div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1679999832936208492.post-25783704022550818102013-03-25T07:59:00.001+00:002013-03-26T12:29:31.592+00:00Inside we're blooming!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrMGEwPhpx1D6YlrsYryoyVSsA0RRRn-dJOvHdi2MohlmsvJEJ9tFb4bu2FX2-Gdghtwip73uTwYoxrX0d7Cy5ytDQsN6mW70JMQQ1AIfHosmqCI0hdXduYiVgn8YtTknfuAtYhGeFscc/s1600/IMG_5570.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrMGEwPhpx1D6YlrsYryoyVSsA0RRRn-dJOvHdi2MohlmsvJEJ9tFb4bu2FX2-Gdghtwip73uTwYoxrX0d7Cy5ytDQsN6mW70JMQQ1AIfHosmqCI0hdXduYiVgn8YtTknfuAtYhGeFscc/s640/IMG_5570.JPG" width="514" /></a></div>
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The UK isn't quite all covered in snow at the moment - despite how it might appear from the news reports! We've got sunshine today, although it's still pretty cold outside - and a houseful of yellow pot mums. Mum took advantage of an offer to give a good home to a bargain quantity of beautiful blooms from Wiggly Wigglers and a spectacularly huge boxful of blooms arrived on Friday. There are tulips, alstomeria, smoke bush and seven bunches of chrysanthemums. The only vessel suitable for conditioning the flowers was the bath and they filled it with their loveliness while I dug vases out of cupboards. Every room now has a burst of sunny yellow and the house smells like a florists. It's lovely. Spring may not quite have sprung outdoors just yet, but inside we're blooming!</div>
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NOTE: Just wanted to add a link to Wiggly Wigglers: <a href="http://www.wigglywigglers.co.uk/">http://www.wigglywigglers.co.uk/</a> and to mention the fact that their flowers are British - direct from the farm in Herefordshire. They sell their own home grown bird food too which our lucky Pembrokeshire birds are busily scoffing.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1679999832936208492.post-72701254691534623032013-03-11T13:23:00.000+00:002013-03-11T13:23:12.135+00:00Bathing piggies and eating a very Beau BunnySpring sprung briefly last week and it was lovely (if a little cold) to be back out in the garden again. The puddles and awful sucking mud we've endured over the past months have dried and walking around is a much easier affair again. The garden isn't terribly photogenic yet though, so instead here are the piggies having a bath.<br />
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Guinea pigs are prone to itchy little skin infections so the occasional bath (in T-Gel, as recommended by <a href="http://www.rodentswithattitude.co.uk/bathing.html">Rodents with Attitude</a>) helps to keep them healthy.</div>
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Meanwhile, another 'pet' appeared only this one was very edible indeed! The lovely people at <a href="http://www.hotelchocolat.com/uk/home">Hotel Chocolat</a> offered me the chance to review one of their Easter Eggs. How could I refuse?!</div>
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<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5JOdzP33p-M8qGZXR4rIbkoaUacu4LIvkF5AfIdzROXP67gPuk78ephwOIWd61iHUFs40S4K8ytvE6RbUDZrJRri-suYRNaq42r6w-8H8THvJ_jIATPtHlLlmUASN7toDh6-RiAm5la0/s1600/IMG_5487.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5JOdzP33p-M8qGZXR4rIbkoaUacu4LIvkF5AfIdzROXP67gPuk78ephwOIWd61iHUFs40S4K8ytvE6RbUDZrJRri-suYRNaq42r6w-8H8THvJ_jIATPtHlLlmUASN7toDh6-RiAm5la0/s400/IMG_5487.JPG" width="276" /></a></div>
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This is the handsome <a href="http://www.hotelchocolat.com/uk/shop/gift-ideas/childrens/easter-chocolate-egg">Beau Bunny egg</a>, in all its wrapped glory.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Yk4SGn6UdifEXRdfRO5x0b3WnvbNLJeR-f4VakcPyWsuU80GlU7koxMxrpd6qpdvJqTWWY-asRJKjJMqXL7RiVXZxkOfRVdfnSnvxRfSsQUStSgLRRQHd25YHrlkz2Ei7pA2UZcifvk/s1600/IMG_5518.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Yk4SGn6UdifEXRdfRO5x0b3WnvbNLJeR-f4VakcPyWsuU80GlU7koxMxrpd6qpdvJqTWWY-asRJKjJMqXL7RiVXZxkOfRVdfnSnvxRfSsQUStSgLRRQHd25YHrlkz2Ei7pA2UZcifvk/s400/IMG_5518.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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Beau himself adorns the eggs, cleverly printed on in chocolate. </div>
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He's accompanied by six tasty little eggs. The gold ones are salted caramel:</div>
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And the dark brown ones are praline:</div>
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What can I tell you? We shared this between three - one adult (me) and H11 and R9. We're already fans of Hotel Chocolat but as there are no shops in Pembrokeshire, we regard our local branches as the ones in Taunton and Exeter. They're a reliable source of thank-you-for-looking-after-our-dog-presents along with never-mind-it's-raining-on-our-holiday treats.</div>
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Beau Bunny is lovely. A nice thick egg of creamy milk chocolate, which requires a good thwack to get into it, and the little eggs are, as you'd expect, absolutely divine. The salted caramel filling was definitely the favourite with H11 and R9, in fact I think they'd have liked the main egg to be full of it too! The egg retails at £15 and for that you're getting 190g of chocolate, so it's not cheap, but it's probably one of the better quality, tastier eggs. We all loved it.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1679999832936208492.post-29804206112405646732013-02-07T17:23:00.000+00:002013-02-07T17:23:55.929+00:00AftermathI suppose some level of destruction was inevitable; snow is heavy, two falls of snow, both four inches deep, are extra heavy.<br />
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It was too much for the roof over the hayloft.<br />
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Oh well, at least it saved us the job of taking it down, and it needed to be taken down so it can be repaired (when we have the cash). In the meantime a little tidying and making safe is required and that's a job for the spring.</div>
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The snow left more speedily than it arrived turning overnight into torrents of water that rushed across our concrete farmyard. On they way the thaw lifted a myriad of stones and mud, which it left behind on the yard, and it swept the bottoms of our gravelly streams clean. Grass and reeds were left flattened by the speed of the water; all stems pointing downhill towards the river which roared and growled at full capacity.</div>
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Then there were gales and hailstorms which ripped through our young Merryweather damson like a madman with an axe. The roof was whipped off the hen house and two of the occupants had a breezy night being blown about the garden (the third must have had a much tighter grip on the perch...)</div>
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We've had almost daily power cuts; intermittent things which mean all electronic clocks (on the cooker and the heating) must be repeatedly reset. There is still water, water everywhere, and mud, mud (not very) glorious mud.<br />
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On the bright side the polytunnel is intact and full of salad and we've had some bright crisp clear nights rich with stars. Sitting here now, at the computer, I look out of the window and sigh at the state of the garden but even through the gloom of dusk I can see the glimmer of a bud; a hellebore, tough as old boots and a sure sign of better things to come.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1679999832936208492.post-14883023908927898022013-01-21T13:50:00.000+00:002013-01-21T13:50:52.368+00:00What a difference a week makes!Life WAS better when the sun shone but then it became, um..., interesting!<br />
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And very white!</div>
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It's between four and six inches deep mostly, but other bits are as much as a foot deep (or an arm in this case!) School has been shut, open (briefly) and shut again.</div>
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We've been tobogganing...</div>
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...we've been silly...</div>
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...we've played and wrestled...</div>
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...we've icicled...</div>
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...and it's showing no signs of leaving.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1679999832936208492.post-84352106980079748492013-01-09T15:55:00.000+00:002013-01-09T15:55:38.330+00:00Life is better when the sun shines<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj43RTVEauHTT3yOdy6DWnf039C11WHDUccPBK1Im2K9LXkZxBKTgrFeaATviSOjBsjFiyj2Xg5E281w5UoOFmdIddW8xJ29zpRJvj8t16724hV4p21Z0Ffxjw8jQ65_t_dIiSC9dK51hI/s1600/IMG_4975+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj43RTVEauHTT3yOdy6DWnf039C11WHDUccPBK1Im2K9LXkZxBKTgrFeaATviSOjBsjFiyj2Xg5E281w5UoOFmdIddW8xJ29zpRJvj8t16724hV4p21Z0Ffxjw8jQ65_t_dIiSC9dK51hI/s400/IMG_4975+copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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It was feeling almost springlike today as I was giving Pippin her extra food. The poor old thing's still going strong despite having a list of ailments as long as her tail. She loves her extra treats.</div>
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We could do with more dry days like today because it's like this pretty much all over the farm - worse in some places. The land just cannot take any more rain. At least it is sloping so the worst of the wet runs off, but put your boot down on even the greenest-looking bit and the answer is <i>squelch</i>.</div>
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I love it when the sheep are obedient. Who needs a sheepdog when you can just open the gate and call them? We used the international sheep call sign of <i>here sheepy sheep sheeps</i> and (for once) in they came. The rattling of a feed sack helped, as did the fact that they knew a cosy barn is theirs until after lambing and sheep like nothing better than loafing about indoors with unlimited food. </div>
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Dylan the new ram seems to be quite the charmer and has settled happily into the flock. He had sore feet but a bit of appropriate medicine and the company of his new ladies took his mind off his sore hooves and he's sound again.</div>
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Everything we do has spectators. This is Mitch, the bossiest of the cat pack. And no, don't laugh at the "door". It'll get fixed one day. So what if it doesn't quite reach to the floor?! It saves the need for a cat flap.</div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1679999832936208492.post-41541318891242616982012-12-29T14:26:00.000+00:002012-12-29T14:26:32.783+00:00Magatha Christie and the case of the missing keysIt began on a dark and rainy Friday evening in the depths of the sober lull between Christmas and New Year. After shuffling the children off to bed I reclined on the sofa, settled the dog snugly on my lap and prepared to watch Restoration Man.<br />
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My <strike>gentle slumbers</strike> close attention to George Clarke's erudite commentary was rudely interrupted by the telephone. Brian answered because he was <strike>awake</strike> nearest. I paid little attention until the words "no, it's no problem, we'll come and get you" were uttered.<br />
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What?!<br />
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It turned out that Mum, who had nipped out to her meditation group in Nevern, had become parted from her coat and in that coat pocket was her car key. Ah ha.<br />
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It also turned out that "we'll fetch you" actually meant "Maggie will fetch you". Ah ha ha.<br />
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I dragged myself out from underneath the dog, threw on my coat and valiantly charged out into the stormy night in my 4X4.<br />
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I splashed triumphantly into Nevern, to be greeted with the words, "have you got my spare car keys?" Oh <strike>expletive deleted</strike> I'd forgotten them. Ah ****ing ha.<br />
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So I drove my parent back over the Preseli Hills through fog and rain and wind while she explained that her coat had inadvertently gone home (to a deepest darkest somewhere south of Lampeter) on the back of a gentleman who had mistaken her smart Berghaus waterproof with its pocketful of car keys and sensible torch for his moth-eaten coat which had the grand total of nothing in its scruffy pockets. Mum was wearing the latter (because it was raining) looking moth-eaten, scruffy and car key and torch-less.<br />
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We left Mum's car (according to her) tucked in neatly at the side of the road or (according to me) parked in the middle of the road blocking her hosts' car neatly in its driveway and causing a small obstruction to those negotiating the picturesque but narrow bridge over the river Nevern.<br />
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The night passed bringing more rain and the morning subsequently arrived with news from Mum's hosts that her car was parked near the river and the aforementioned river had just burst its banks. Ah.<br />
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We had visions of a little silver Hyundai Getz appearing on news reports bobbing down the river to the sea and causing a hazard to shipping.<br />
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So we splashed over the Preselis again, this time double-checking the presence of the spare key, passing through two floods and dodging others and successfully rescued the car from the clutches of the river Nevern.<br />
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The coat, the keys and the torch? Well they're still somewhere in the deepest darkest depths of the countryside south of Lampeter. The apologetic gentleman says he'll return them. Eventually. Case closed.<br />
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* Incidentally, Maggie isn't really short for Magatha, but I think it would suit my surname better if it was!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1679999832936208492.post-12429817102706641162012-12-21T08:45:00.000+00:002012-12-21T08:45:11.535+00:00What really bugs me about Christmas...What really bugs me about Christmas is the way TV adverts and magazines portray it. We see harassed mum going from shopping to cleaning to party to cooking and then relative after relative arriving to open piles of expensive presents before squeezing around a table to eat a massive turkey.<br />
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Is it really like that? Or are we just made to feel that is how it should be so we spend lots of money trying to achieve that TV advertland ideal?<br />
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Martin <a href="http://blog.moneysavingexpert.com/2012/12/20/is-it-time-to-kill-off-santa/">Moneysavingexpert</a> Lewis has been ranting about this for years - about how we feel obligated to give cards and buy presents we can't afford for people we don't like. He's taken a lot of flack for saying it but he has got a point.<br />
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I blame the gift bag for starters. I don't know who invented them but they are ridiculous! What happened to the single, individually wrapped present? A gift bag begs to be FILLED and that's expensive. Of course they're perfect when gifting for families as you can tuck everyone's present in together but not one bag each - unless you can afford it and as long as they then don't feel obligated to equally reciprocate.<br />
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I'm learning not to feel guilty about not always being able to reciprocate. We can't keep up with the lovely relatives who send our children cash. It seems crazy to then send it back to theirs, but we have done that in the past.<br />
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I LOVE buying presents. I buy Christmas presents all year round if I see the right thing and I stick to my budget, not because I'm Scrooge but because I don't have any alternative.<br />
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I LOVE making presents, which is why Magatha Bagatha came into being and I LOVE giving presents (especially to children).<br />
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BUT...<br />
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I worry about those with small families, those who work on Christmas Day, those who live on their own and will be spending the day alone, those who have lost jobs, those who have lost relatives. Christmas in advertland isn't how it's <b>supposed</b> to be. That's someone else's Christmas. We should all stick to our own individual versions, tailor-made to suit ourselves and our budget and, definitely, not feel obligated, not feel guilty and not feel OMG-how-can-I-afford-this?!<br />
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Here, in our little part of the Preseli Hills, this is how things are:<br />
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We HATE turkey - so we're having chicken. Three generations will sit in COMFORT around the dining table - there's five of us (not 'only' five, just five). The tree isn't a Norwegian spruce (LOVE the smell, HATE the price) it's a willow branch (and some Crabtree and Evelyn Noel room spray for fragrance.) I HATE tinsel (so it's quarantined upstairs where the children have lovingly wound it around everywhere). This is NOT America so there's no cranberry sauce. I haven't bought a SINGLE gift bag (we're always given plenty to recycle!) If you turn up and I'd like to give you a present, I WILL give you marmalade but don't feel obligated to give anything back. I bought ONE pack of Christmas cards and ONE book of stamps and they're all used up now so if you didn't get a card, I'm sorry but HAPPY CHRISTMAS anyway.<br />
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Have a very happy Christmas everyone, and have YOUR perfect Christmas, not somebody else's.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1679999832936208492.post-46755780123307871352012-12-20T17:33:00.001+00:002012-12-20T17:33:53.880+00:00Mud, water and festive breakages<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><u>Mud</u></b></div>
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The relentless rain has left us fetlock deep in mud. Walking the dogs is more slipping with the dogs and they haul vast quantities back in to the house with them on their paws. The sheep don't seem to mind, thanks to the invention of lanolin. The ponies mind and are brought into the shed to dry out. The four-legged can walk about on the mud - if one leg slips there's another three to lean on. Humans are less fortunate so walking about is tiresome. A couple of times I've had to grab onto a handy mane to save from muddy disaster.<br />
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<b><u>Water</u></b></div>
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Our farm, like all of the others here, is strewn with streams. In the summer they burble happily down to the river at the bottom, in winter - or, rather, in a WET winter like this one - they hurry angrily on down muttering loudly to themselves. Unless of course they become clogged with leaves and then there is childlike pleasure in kicking the leaves out and getting a satisfying gurgle before the stream forms a mini tsunami and rushes on again sweeping a barrage of leaves in its path. Even though only a foot wide and ankle-deep the power is surprising. It makes me wish I had the wit of an engineer, imagining how even a tiny turbine could harness that power and turn it into electricity. I know it can be done, I've even seem it demonstrated on Youtube with an empty water carrier and plastic spoons but I cannot work out how that electricity, once made, could be employed. I should have paid attention in physics.<br />
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<b><u>Christmas</u></b></div>
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The festive season has arrived despite my best efforts to ignore it and hope it will magically move itself to a more convenient time, say, around Easter. I've been busy with Magatha Bagatha sewing presents for family alongside making things for customers. It's been an absolute joy - especially finding out how much I love making bunting and designing cushions to a customer's specification. Comments such as: "Maggie, they are amazing, I am over the moon with them," and "Wow! I love them!" are so lovely and very encouraging.<br />
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Finally though I have got to the end of the things I need to make and have packed away my sewing machine. Underneath it was the dining table, which we're going to need next Tuesday, and around it, under heaps of material, is apparently the rest of the dining room although I haven't managed to locate all of it yet!<br />
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But I have got the tree up - a bit of goat willow I found in the hedge by the river. Last time we chopped down an ash sapling that was growing in the wrong place, but it would seem vandalism to kill an ash at the moment. The willow is an excellent substitute and looks festive wrapped in sparkling lights.<br />
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<b><u>Small disasters</u></b></div>
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Things keep breaking. My car was the start of this current spate of breakages. I actually cried when it left, I'm such a wuss. I loved my CR-V. Then we acquired a gorgeous new (younger, sprightlier) one that I love more; I'm that fickle.<br />
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The oil boiler has been broken for ages but we finally saved up enough to pay for it to be fixed (by not using or having to pay for oil - simple!) and now it is working again we are flagrantly leaving it on all day and basking in the heat. The bathroom is warm (hot!) enough for a leisurely bath, not just a splash and dash.<br />
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Then the fridge part of the fridge freezer broke. Just as I was about to stuff it with food ready for Christmas. Blasted thing. What timing! If it wasn't already dead I'd kill it. We'd always hated it tough (horrid complicated LG thing) so a replacement is arriving tomorrow.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1679999832936208492.post-62935499308384275772012-11-04T10:40:00.000+00:002012-11-04T10:40:50.635+00:00We've been on MullidayWell, on holiday to the Isle of Mull anyway. My Dad lives there (see <a href="http://peteronmull.blogspot.co.uk/">Peter on Mull</a>) with his wife Pat in a lovely new house they've built together in a very handy spot near where the Oban ferry arrives.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turus Mara.</td></tr>
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We trekked up the motorway, overnighted at Carlisle and spent Sunday night to Thursday morning on the island. It was my second visit to Mull but the first for Brian and the first ever visit to Scotland for H10 and R8.<br />
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Mull is like the rest of Scotland - soaring peaks, seaweedy beaches and crystal clear lochs, all packed with wildlife. When we weren't tripping over fat bunny rabbits we were spotting deer, arguing over whether it was buzzard or golden eagle and giggling at the antics of otters. We searched for Highland Coos, admired the curlicue horns on Blackface sheep and bemoaned the absence of white-tailed eagles.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An otter before breakfast.</td></tr>
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We bounced around on bumpy roads in the back of Dad and Pat's Land Rover, toasted marshmallows over embers in the fireplace of an abandoned bothy, photographed peak after peak after peak and fell over on slippy seaweedy paths and nearly broke our wrists (well, only Dad and I).<br />
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There were the usual funnies - one when I jumped out of the car to photograph an eagle and dropped one of my leather gloves on the road. I didn't realise until my hands were cold in Tobermory. Yes we drove all the way back to pick it out of a puddle. (Sighs and rolls eyes.)<br />
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Another happened as we queued to leave the island when the CalMac man took tickets and asked Brian to confirm the number of occupants in the car.<br />
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"Five," Brian boomed back confidently, handing over five tickets, forgetting that one was for the car.<br />
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CalMacMan smiled thinly, handed over FOUR boarding cards and announced dryly, "The one in the boot gets in for free."<br />
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I laughed at that all the way back to Pembrokeshire. (Last time, when we were in Scotland on honeymoon, Brian drove into a lay-by for no apparent reason and I was laughing so hard I couldn't tell him what he had done. It was the lay-by on the left just before you get to the turning for Duck Bay and we gave it a wave on this trip. He maintains to this day that it looks just like road, not lay-by. He's wrong.)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snow, as requested by H10 and R8.</td></tr>
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We left Scotland with snow on its highest peaks and followed the rainbows back down the motorways and over sleet-laden hills and finally back to home. The journey takes 12 hours but the views are so wonderful from the northern stretch of the M6 it's not that onerous (especially if you can't drive because your wrist is too bruised from falling over watching otters!)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1679999832936208492.post-59154341519979501052012-10-19T09:20:00.000+01:002013-03-29T10:14:00.473+00:00From PC despair to PC joy!Poor blog! It has been a trifle neglected of late. Partly this is because my desktop PC died and there was much to do to transfer files and here I must send heartfelt thanks to <a href="http://www.ljcltd.co.uk/">LJ Computers Ltd</a> for rescuing my hard disc.<br />
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Apparently my motherboard was 'sizzling' when Jon (the J of LJ Computers) turned it on so then it was a case of file rescue from the hard disc. Easy when you know how - or know someone who does! LJ Computers are local to me here but they are like an online IT department, supporting everything from software, to hardware, websites and IT training. And they know how to rescue a gal in PC trouble!<br />
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They advised on shiny new hardware for me too and I now have an HP PC with Windows 7. This was a big jump from Windows XP and it's <u>LOVELY</u>.<br />
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Apart from going from PC despair to PC joy I've been sewing, sewing and sewing for a craft fair I'm taking part in (and for Christmas presents too).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdTBW0lJA8LQq_1QFUYIIWUJLORJyQtW9unZCS8_XG2dBbUMcuroN78keX1isqy1uL11PLw1qkuJlHsigqz0p-V5qNh7SkOdM2cMsmcsgQ6Nj-TfHUJl9mClTNNtanLYrBzMIbp4iqVvw/s1600/IMG_4526.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdTBW0lJA8LQq_1QFUYIIWUJLORJyQtW9unZCS8_XG2dBbUMcuroN78keX1isqy1uL11PLw1qkuJlHsigqz0p-V5qNh7SkOdM2cMsmcsgQ6Nj-TfHUJl9mClTNNtanLYrBzMIbp4iqVvw/s320/IMG_4526.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The craft fair is on November 10th, 10am to 4pm, at Clarbeston Road hall and Lins (coincidentally the L of LJ Computers) is rounding up lots of talented craftspeople from Pembrokeshire to sell their wares and raise funds for St Meilyr's Church in Llysyfran. This is perfect timing for Christmas shopping and if you're in the area on that day I urge you to come along, have a mince pie and <span style="color: red;">BUY LOCAL FOR CHRISTMAS</span>!<br />
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Magatha Bagatha (aka me) will have cushions, cafetiere covers, lavender bags and covered journals (so far!), R8 is bringing along some of her embroidery and H10 and her friend G11 will be selling homemade dog biscuits to raise money for the Dog's Trust. for the full list of exhibitors see the website <a href="http://www.llysyfranchurch.co.uk/fundraising.html">HERE</a>.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>UPDATE:</b> Find LJ Computers on Facebook <a href="https://www.facebook.com/LJCLTD?fref=ts">HERE</a>. They are a friendly and approachable family-run company and provide hosting and website design alongside quality IT advice, support and delivery. Their websites are: <a href="http://www.ljcltd.co.uk/">www.ljcltd.co.uk</a> and <a href="http://www.ljcltd-webhosting.co.uk/">www.ljcltd-webhosting.co.uk</a>.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1679999832936208492.post-35314077823633017352012-10-15T10:03:00.000+01:002012-10-15T10:03:22.775+01:00Thoughts on a half marathonI ran the Cardiff Half Marathon yesterday for the fourth time. The sun was smiling on Cardiff and the 18,000 runners started to the chimes of the Cardiff Castle clock.<br />
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These are some of my thoughts over the 13.1 miles:<br />
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<strong>STARTING PEN:</strong> I can see the start arch. I must be too far forward. Blimey that tannoy is so loud! Everyone around me looks a bit too fit. I might just try to edge back a bit... Oops, stepped on another runner. I'm stuck! I need a wee.<br />
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<strong>MILE 1:</strong> Must try to get rid of knackered old fleece that's keeping me warm without annihilating anyone in the cheering crowds. Bye bye fleece! Hello people waving from bedroom windows in fluffy pink dressing gowns.<br />
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<strong>MILE 2:</strong> This is LOVELY! Cheering crowds in Grangetown, decent pace, feeling GOOD! Ooh look, a gorilla!<br />
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<strong>MILE 3:</strong> Everyone is running past me. Apart from the ones who are walking. Overtaken by Yoda. Quite a fast runner, Yoda is. First water stop. Lovely.<br />
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<strong>MILE 4:</strong> Overtaken by Mr Potato Head, Buzz Lightyear and a bloke dressed as a lifeboat. It's a bit crowded but the pace is comfortable.<br />
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<strong>MILE 5:</strong> This is BRILLIANT! Runners around me are talking of 2:15 pace. I can't do that but they're overtaking me so that's okay. This is my favourite part - over Cardiff Bay Barrage. Overtaken by three blokes wearing Speedos. Just Speedos. Hello Dr Who Experience.<br />
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<strong>MILE 6:</strong> Straight down Lloyd George Avenue. This has been the start/finish in previous years. Hello air cadets, thank you for the gels. The road is sticky from discarded gel packets. It's like running on Velcro. Thank you lovely spectator person for the wine gums! Hello Senedd.<br />
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<strong>MILE 7:</strong> More friendly cheering crowds. This is like being in the Olympics! Is the the legacy that Lord Coe was talking about? I think so. Long may it last.<br />
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<strong>MILE 8:</strong> I'm running on the spot. And hallucinating. I'm pretty sure a tall pink furry thing has just overtaken me with an ironing board strapped to its back. Weird.<br />
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<strong>MILE 9:</strong> I'm running, facing forwards but going backwards. How is that possible? Overtaken by the Jamaican bobsleigh team carrying their bobsleigh and singing 'You've Lost That Loving Feelin'.<br />
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<strong>MILE 10:</strong> I can't feel my toes. Actually I can feel my toes and I wish I couldn't. Ow, ow, OW! The road is littered with the corpses of abandoned Mars Bars.<br />
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<strong>MILE 11:</strong> I AM <span style="font-size: large;">NEVER</span> DOING THIS AGAIN THIS IS <span style="font-size: x-large;"><strong>HELL</strong></span>! More water. Thank you. Morphine would have been better. I'll just have a little walk. I NEVER walk in half marathons. This is BAD. Feel better after a few moments and run again. Second wind. It hurts but I think I may finish in a reasonable time, if not my best.<br />
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<strong>MILE 12:</strong> Woman crossing the road with toddler in one hand and pushchair in the other clips my heel and sends me sprawling. I scream SH*T!!! in front of crowds of friendly spectators, while pushchair woman looks horrified. Gallant, chivalrous man puts out arms to catch should I fall. Luckily I stay upright by flailing arms and legs like a stranded starfish. Brave man had a lucky escape. I'd have flattened him and covered him in sweat. Surge of adrenaline speeds me away from embarrassing scene and up nasty bit of hill.<br />
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<strong>MILE 13:</strong> Pushchair incident has shocked all joints in legs and pelvis. Ankle feels awful. Can hardly walk, let alone run. Hobble along feeling sorry for self. Surrounded by other walkers. I've never been this far back in the field.<br />
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<strong>FINISH: </strong>Speedy expert runner, with medal already around neck, yells that we'll be able to see the finish around the next corner. Force body to run. I CAN SEE THE FINISH! Sprint for the line overtaking corpses on the way. Grab medal and say thankyouthankyouthankyou to all the stewards and volunteers at the finish. Hobble away carrying goodie bag and medal.<br />
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Cardiff Half Marathon history: 2009, 2 hours 25 mins; 2010, 2 hours 17 mins; 2011, 2 hours 25 mins; 2012, 2 hours 40 mins.<br />
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That's my last one for the time being. I've finally been forced to admit that the training required to get to 13.1 miles in exacerbating my <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Symphysis_pubis_dysfunction">Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction</a> - a condiditon I developed during pregnancy. It's difficult to run that far with a wobbly pelvis and I've found that my weekly limit is a maximum of 17 miles, not the 25 miles plus I need to be able to do. So it's strength training, shorter runs, cycling and 10ks for me for a bit.<br />
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As for half marathons, I know I said never, but...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1679999832936208492.post-2846573898107625132012-09-15T10:17:00.000+01:002012-09-15T10:17:08.562+01:00Ergorapido v Life in the Preseli HillsLife in the Preseli Hills can be a muddy, hairy, hay-covered existence and I seem sometimes to be fighting a losing battle against the tidal wave of daily dirt that washes up in my house.<div>
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We have ponies, sheep, dogs, cats and hens and their hair, fur and feathers seems to find its way indoors on the bottom of wellies along with the mud that is an inevitable part of life on a farm.</div>
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And it gets all over the cream tiles in the utility room, kitchen and bathroom. Why, why, WHY did I choose cream tiles? Because my house is a tiny cottagy thing and anything darker would have made it look like a cave. I'd tackle the problem with a broom and an old handheld vacuum cleaner (which died recently) but, inevitably, seconds after I'd swept, the floor would be all hairy again.</div>
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The main problem looks like this:</div>
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<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGJZ0aNlIbVFsHLs48Cj674Z_qFKS-sD8AxAFotHSb-Q2nMAPyqEv-QURcvCidefWHzrHwG1-sfkGdYgBWNEeUwkxcrDxwUrUMlDzNyjgZ1XWsnsOp6mjamFHlnjUHHp7kNffi-5AqkKs/s1600/IMG_4451.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGJZ0aNlIbVFsHLs48Cj674Z_qFKS-sD8AxAFotHSb-Q2nMAPyqEv-QURcvCidefWHzrHwG1-sfkGdYgBWNEeUwkxcrDxwUrUMlDzNyjgZ1XWsnsOp6mjamFHlnjUHHp7kNffi-5AqkKs/s640/IMG_4451.JPG" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mido can't help being so hairy!</td></tr>
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Labradors, even part-bred ones like Mido, shed copious amounts of hair. He's surrounded by it in the picture if you look closely.</div>
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So when AEG said they were looking for people to test their <a href="http://www.aeg.co.uk/Plan--Design/Series/Ergorapido/">Ergorapido</a> cyclonic cleaner I <strike>begged</strike> <strike>pleaded</strike> pointed out that I had a problem with a black Labrador and cream tiles. They said their machine was well up to the challenge and one duly arrived in a nice shiny box.</div>
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What is an Ergorapido? It's a lightweight rechargeable (astonishingly powerful) vacuum cleaner. It's 2-in-1 which means you can use it as an upright or take it apart and whip out the smaller handheld cleaner. It has a rotating brush to pick up all the hairy dirt and headlights on the front so you can see where the dirt is. </div>
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It tackled my tiles:</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiskC9lBXKQr9rTWsRquDaqU4iFVPWh9sIOHUrJbCURWAt6EIoensAo2cHiLUCVJ7fGu4VhKZtj5nRy3vHtWFnfcF8ZW4nWNhZqAXYLUV7GJpD22gR6NtqR0poC2MTfgyc-pLijGI6ktzY/s1600/IMG_4453.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiskC9lBXKQr9rTWsRquDaqU4iFVPWh9sIOHUrJbCURWAt6EIoensAo2cHiLUCVJ7fGu4VhKZtj5nRy3vHtWFnfcF8ZW4nWNhZqAXYLUV7GJpD22gR6NtqR0poC2MTfgyc-pLijGI6ktzY/s400/IMG_4453.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can you see the furrow ploughed by the Ergorapido?!</td></tr>
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<br />What makes this such fun is that it's so easy. One swipe with the Ergorapido and the hair and the mud has gone, safely cyclonically suctioned up inside the machine.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Me and vacuuming aren't the best of friends because I have a bad back and find it uncomfortable to do. I tend to leave it to my husband (he prefers to do it rather than find me on my hands and knees using the cleaner or incapacitated having used it). The Ergorapido, however, is light and nimble - a veritable ballerina of vacuum cleaners - and I have no problem with using it (which is good because I now use it at least twice a day!) It's laughably good at turning corners (it should do Strictly...) and there's no fighting with retractable cables because you just lift it off its stand and then lift it back on again when you've finished.</div>
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And boy is it good at picking up hair...</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4UVcsn7oMsIQU894qWcFA_JTW9Ef4mqbOCRUwPVbQot6gEx87t-bN9q4YM06yrnhvA20NlTuRFX7Vvwz-yAY_LeYTJmpdTlCHCWxbOP0WOtvXMjTIOSImKy6NS8D-xNWAySepYnu9GKM/s1600/IMG_4465.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4UVcsn7oMsIQU894qWcFA_JTW9Ef4mqbOCRUwPVbQot6gEx87t-bN9q4YM06yrnhvA20NlTuRFX7Vvwz-yAY_LeYTJmpdTlCHCWxbOP0WOtvXMjTIOSImKy6NS8D-xNWAySepYnu9GKM/s400/IMG_4465.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BEFORE: Wound around with hair, sewing threads and hay</td></tr>
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I have long strong hair which is (previously) impossible to pick up. I also do a lot of sewing so invariably there are little bits of cotton all over the dining room carpet. Not any more! The Ergorapido winds them round the brush (see picture). To clean this I just snipped the thick bit in the middle with a pair of scissors and most of the hair just pulls easily off. You then put the cleaner on a hard surface, press the head cleaning button on the side, count to five and Hey Presto!...</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfOtGEJojWYPhHN-LYKVtRhHVwIt-Z8YCqb6vpMhwp4nVRJKHw9CW40lppPFx5sTuDF4J0HOfUS-YULxJF4H_Ak9rkGXrviaU0PfgBac1iYLGWWzZ_tQmPG-ZLCs3BUtsuyK4cx1lRVkE/s1600/IMG_4467.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfOtGEJojWYPhHN-LYKVtRhHVwIt-Z8YCqb6vpMhwp4nVRJKHw9CW40lppPFx5sTuDF4J0HOfUS-YULxJF4H_Ak9rkGXrviaU0PfgBac1iYLGWWzZ_tQmPG-ZLCs3BUtsuyK4cx1lRVkE/s400/IMG_4467.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">AFTER: Spotless again</td></tr>
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It comes up like new. Every single time. Ingenious. It's a doddle to clean the dust container too. You just unclip the dust box and tip it the bits into the bin. It has an efficient filter (I now keep an old toothbrush handy to quickly brush this clean) and the inner filter has a spring loaded trigger that you ping the dust off with. All done in moments.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBgwJuk6GDkkuU6n9TEYFILKnqD5DO8emy606z0eMmhaZwl6otRM-YbK0zX02ifNkhhyphenhypheng-BiT44OWQVxxIKbU_ftUPI28t9ioRiwfzR730ar1-RbtIcPBuG2VGnkdHkc9w1Ymr2ub6UrQ/s1600/IMG_4458.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBgwJuk6GDkkuU6n9TEYFILKnqD5DO8emy606z0eMmhaZwl6otRM-YbK0zX02ifNkhhyphenhypheng-BiT44OWQVxxIKbU_ftUPI28t9ioRiwfzR730ar1-RbtIcPBuG2VGnkdHkc9w1Ymr2ub6UrQ/s400/IMG_4458.JPG" width="345" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Headlights so you can see where the dirt is</td></tr>
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The Ergorapido is the sort of thing that I didn't know I needed until I got it and now I'm wondering how I lived without it. I'm a fan of <a href="http://www.flylady.net/">Fly Lady</a> style of cleaning (set the timer and GO!) and I can vacuum my whole house with the Ergorapido (just the middles, as Fly Lady says) in ten minutes (less if I run!) This is a Very Good Thing.</div>
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The handheld cleaner has two nozzles - one concentrates the suction into a tiny area so you can clean hard to reach places (like behind the pipes in the bathroom). The other has a brush on it (which is excellent at cleaning the dust off the TV). It's so easy and quick to use Brian grabbed it and gave his car a quick spruce up before he went off to work one morning.</div>
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I was trying to find something negative to say about it. I first thought the handheld bit was underpowered but it's very efficient once you fit the nozzles on (better than my old one in fact). It does run out of juice after a while (as all cordless things do). I charge it up overnight and use it morning and evening so that's not a problem.</div>
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I'll leave the last word on it to R8: "Wow!" she said, as it flitted past whisking up dirt, "that's awesome!"</div>
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<i>Disclaimer: AEG supplied me with an Ergorapido to test. I am under no obligation to give it a positive review.</i></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1679999832936208492.post-30621982592167199962012-09-12T09:55:00.000+01:002012-09-12T09:55:20.669+01:00Ffordd Ar Gau<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIUAH2gbo3CzGQV2wwfJCB8WS4RNcJlJ3iIGbCoTLLs0BSbxjR_TXWRsn7iUJw-1AuX1aFu4mXQZZ3iSm5YgSo23IyHtFPTEkm05eHVXDn7u7TF8CbPnQntBgFYkSmdW6Rhwo1Zl-6aMs/s1600/2012-09-11+15.11.41.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIUAH2gbo3CzGQV2wwfJCB8WS4RNcJlJ3iIGbCoTLLs0BSbxjR_TXWRsn7iUJw-1AuX1aFu4mXQZZ3iSm5YgSo23IyHtFPTEkm05eHVXDn7u7TF8CbPnQntBgFYkSmdW6Rhwo1Zl-6aMs/s400/2012-09-11+15.11.41.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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We're having an entertaining week transport-wise, here in our little village. Last week the council, all of a sudden and without much warning (merely a sign announcing dates) decided to close the road and give us a nice new surface.</div>
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Terrific! It needs it! So the road has been scraped clean of the grass down the middle, the iron works have been raised, it's been scrubbed clean, bits have been eaten off by one of those road-eating machines and we now await a shiny new surface.</div>
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Getting to and fro our farm is the problematical part. The road is long and narrow with high banked sides, twisty bends and no junctions for means of escape. The detour is fine but tiresome if you attempt the road, find it blocked and then have to turn around. I've taken to dashing out early on the school run, taking the long way round to minimise the risk of meeting the road gang and after the first week of term (see <a href="http://preselimags.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/yesterday.html">Yesterday</a>) I've abandoned the afternoon school run in favour of the bus anyway.</div>
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You see every cloud has a silver lining! The surprise coming home on the bus thing (because idiot mother left her lights on and flattened her car battery) was a huge hit with all concerned and is now part of the a daily routine.</div>
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My afternoon low-carbon school run now looks like this:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPeMBATl1NAPIE86btyCu33Eixwy6ueLeHL-291BoLei6dGWb-_HO-PnlMSoVPSUk6BImGCU4ZvRvkcjeXDZBGDgmiu49NHdG-vsoNSNG1fMYQYZ_jniKCGSKc8KgzG1csKhnmH1EktT8/s1600/2012-09-11+14.56.58.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPeMBATl1NAPIE86btyCu33Eixwy6ueLeHL-291BoLei6dGWb-_HO-PnlMSoVPSUk6BImGCU4ZvRvkcjeXDZBGDgmiu49NHdG-vsoNSNG1fMYQYZ_jniKCGSKc8KgzG1csKhnmH1EktT8/s400/2012-09-11+14.56.58.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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The dogs' enthusiasm for the new arrangements is such that they start howling at about 2.45pm just in case I change my mind and don't take them. They caught on straight away to the fact that the Big Walk involves a nice circuit - up along the footpath through our fields, down the road to the village to meet H10 and R8 from a minibus and then back along the road, up our driveway and back home.</div>
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It's about a mile and the dogs are inclined to tackle it at full pelt, towing me along. (I'm training them NOT to do this!) I carry a rucksack with the girls' wellies in it (so as not to wreck their nice new Startrite shoes) and it's lovely in the autumn sunshine and not too bad even when it's raining. I suspect enthusiasm may wane during the snowy, icy months though, but I'm sure even that can be conquered with the right clothing (there's no such thing as bad weather, only the wrong clothing.)</div>
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The road gang members are (mostly) friendly and inclined to wave as we stomp past in our wellies. On Monday we met a very tall, very African chap with a big smile (with tooth missing in the middle) who was kind enough to escort the bus through (he paraded magnificently along in front of it) and stopped the circular saw (which they were using to cut out a drain) while the children were there.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1679999832936208492.post-25976780052359307282012-09-09T16:23:00.002+01:002012-09-09T16:23:59.961+01:00Haylage - at last!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFu8KT2BjklSrBGYfFtvR-6HnLNMW7aP_nxePEDQdN0ThkvhTp-jJneTVIJqiyDWvcQrlzzhYIjPAEsCD1ALCz-AgLYj6SPnOWDRHjkn-g-nvG4_8jaY6YHiCjwsAYiUoC4WhbmNn68ic/s1600/IMG_4419.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFu8KT2BjklSrBGYfFtvR-6HnLNMW7aP_nxePEDQdN0ThkvhTp-jJneTVIJqiyDWvcQrlzzhYIjPAEsCD1ALCz-AgLYj6SPnOWDRHjkn-g-nvG4_8jaY6YHiCjwsAYiUoC4WhbmNn68ic/s400/IMG_4419.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Mown cut and baled - some of the bales in the first field...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYStiBjK4Qj15XETnfCEtJzo1HKEgeJwjKO8yW4TMx5YBimqiaXuggAqJEZfFcJBMnAA30fSoq9qGaiUyUfKAuAul1T8D0G7rwcC-Bmn5JL9AVhqfc5pJVL8vcGx-JCnfVr-8YjOg0OAk/s1600/IMG_4420.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYStiBjK4Qj15XETnfCEtJzo1HKEgeJwjKO8yW4TMx5YBimqiaXuggAqJEZfFcJBMnAA30fSoq9qGaiUyUfKAuAul1T8D0G7rwcC-Bmn5JL9AVhqfc5pJVL8vcGx-JCnfVr-8YjOg0OAk/s400/IMG_4420.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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...the rest in the second. This is the only flat land on our farm.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmH3Yomj3u4AXoJHgjzccvPLD_eDRN1H6ftlTjVGGKYGRBnmwxJ3ADsDQQrEuBedfeGRF4xiOlLHvMWg5QuIe2lfD5w_OYNJq6hDHtvYzGvaNqzGok5oLIYarL9m10yqXKOvgC8r2Wx9k/s1600/IMG_4417.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmH3Yomj3u4AXoJHgjzccvPLD_eDRN1H6ftlTjVGGKYGRBnmwxJ3ADsDQQrEuBedfeGRF4xiOlLHvMWg5QuIe2lfD5w_OYNJq6hDHtvYzGvaNqzGok5oLIYarL9m10yqXKOvgC8r2Wx9k/s640/IMG_4417.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
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Brian brings all 30 down, one by one, carrying them on a spike on the back of our ancient Ford tractor.</div>
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They get lined up and then wrapped all black and shiny in plastic, thus preserving them for the winter. They're sitting in the field now waiting to be taken and stacked in the hayguard. Where they'll join the ones we have left over from last year! We made 30, we need 15. The leftovers end up (eventually) as rather splendid compost on the garden.</div>
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